Elevated
by Cackymn
Summary: Tony is still learning about Gibbs' hands. *slash* Mention of McGee and Kate. Poor Tony. Yeah, right. :-)


Here be some more Tibbs smut for the people who like that sort of thing… (original posting on live journal, summer 2013)

**Title:** Elevated  
><strong>Author:<strong> cackymn  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Gibbs/DiNozzo  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Setting:<strong> Season Two  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Phooey, not mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Elevated<strong>

"So you use hand tools..."

The question had been harmless enough if a bit inane.

"I use my hands."

The other man's voice was a march down the scale - dark, its tone grinding, and there had been something behind it - a savagery or a sorrow, maybe both. As memories went it was pure Gibbs - always a little more intense than the situation called for, in a way that could make you shiver in the midday heat, shiver the way Tony was doing now as he studied the man's hands.

He had expected the situation to improve after they got together, that their being lovers would take the edge off his obsessive fascination with the other man's being. Instead it had gotten worse and Tony wondered why he had never noticed how that worked, why it had never been this way with anyone else. He turned his attention back to his computer. Sure as shit, it was still running a program. Normally he would find a reason to tease McGee or Katie, but he didn't trust his voice just now, and Gibbs' hands were fiddling with everything on the top of his desk as if they had minds of their own.

Gibbs' hands were on task even when idle or distracted. They were an extension of who he was whether twitching in anticipation of a headslap or at the sound of a lie, whether sanding the rib of a boat or silently bringing Tony off in the middle of the night. Sometimes Gibbs handled Tony with ferocity and precision, like a familiar weapon, but he often stopped him when walking through the house only to look into his face and stroke his cheekbone or eyebrow for a second or two before moving past. Other times his hands would drop below Tony's waist, molding themselves over his buttocks, needing to touch everything between his legs, to find their way inside him.

As intuitive as Gibbs' hands were they still weren't as sneaky as his eyes, not to mention he was making a career of monitoring Tony's attention.

"DiNozzo." Tony looked up.

"Focus."

"I am focusing, Boss," Tony said, eyes glazed.

"On the _case!"_ Gibbs all but shouted, causing both Kate and McGee to jump.

Tony swallowed helplessly. For all he knew they could have been watching, seeing where he was looking and for how long, noting the expression on his face. This was beginning to affect his work and he remembered that even if the Probie and the Nun couldn't read his mind, Gibbs could.

Tony colored and mouthed an apology, instantly regretting it.

"My office. Now."

* * *

><p>The expected headslap didn't come. Once inside, Gibbs' right hand shot out and got the elevator moving, then stopped it between floors. Tony couldn't believe he was sleeping with the guy and he could still make him so nervous. Not very discreetly, he sought a safe distance but Gibbs moved in, hands on his hips.<p>

"How many?"

"How many what, Boss?"

"How many times."

Tony blinked, and then Gibbs' hands, hands that never had to think, were on him, holding him in place, chest flush with the cool metal wall. He had to turn his head to one side.

"How many times a day, DiNozzo..." Warm dry lips brushed the hairs on the back of his neck and he heard the whisper with his _spine_. "...do you think about my fingers in your ass?"

Tony sucked in half the air in the elevator in one panicked breath. Gibbs' right hand was tracing a path along his crack, featherlight against fabric. The left reached around him, unerringly working his belt and zipper, unfastening both and reaching in to touch. The cloth of Tony's trousers was pushed down over his butt and his head began to swim.

"Gibbs! You're not going to...?"

"Finger you in the elevator. Yeah. I am."

Apart from the gravel in his voice Gibbs sounded almost businesslike. It was surreal.

Tony stood frozen - Gibbs was rubbing his cheeks, getting the blood flowing. Fingers dipped between, and with a jolt of awareness Tony began flailing in his suit pockets, finding an object and shakily passing it over his shoulder. Gibbs took it with his teeth.

The hand that had been cupping his balls and gently squeezing his thickness withdrew, and Tony knew Gibbs was uncapping the lube one-handed. When he felt the cool liquid being dropped against the top of his crack, felt it dripping down, Tony let out his breath in an explosive sigh. There were few better feelings in the world - one was the presence of the callused tip drawing little circles around his hole - and when lube and finger met, when the tip pressed inward, Tony couldn't help but twitch all over. Gibbs reached around again to reposition Tony's erection, trapped as it was against the sheet metal.

"Considerate."

"Shhh..."

Something about that small, tender sound caused Tony to whimper, and it rendered the next thing that happened even more unexpected.

Gibbs' fingers worked delicately inside Tony, caressing, stroking in and out, curving and reaching for his prostate. Gibbs' left hand was spread between his shoulder blades, holding him still. It was all Tony could do not to buck, not to push backward onto Gibbs' right hand, but he relented and let the older man control all the sensation below his waist. The surprise occurred when Gibbs' fingers ceased their gentle fucking and began swiveling, stretching.

"Oh God, oh _GOD._"

He hadn't heard Gibbs' zipper come down.

The lube was flowing again and the fingers of Gibbs' right hand were replaced by the greater mass of his cock, velvety head pushing against muscular ring. Heat rose all the way to the top of Tony's scalp. He was stretched but far from relaxed and in his upright, immobilized state he doubted he could tolerate the building pressure of Gibbs entering him. He needed something to do.

Gibbs was fully lined up and advancing now and his right hand drifted up to Tony's hair, carding and stroking softly as the younger man accepted him, trembling and sweating.

"Easy, Tony. 'Sokay."

"Gibbs, I..."

Gibbs' left hand appeared at Tony's mouth and he desperately sucked the fingers in, one at a time and then two, memorizing the pads and knuckles with his tongue.

By the time Gibbs was fully seated and his thighs were tensed against Tony's and he was rolling tightly up into him, short and sharp, almost stationary, Tony was incoherent with pleasure. He released Gibbs' fingers from his mouth and dropped his head back as far as he was able with Gibbs' torso pinning him.

Again Tony resisted the urge to move. Gibbs began taking what he needed, Tony could tell by the curses and soft groans behind his ear, from the rhythm of Gibbs' breath and the grinding push of his hips, by how hard Gibbs gripped his shoulders, climbing up his back with every mini-thrust and bringing them both to their toes.

He also knew when the older man began to shake apart, but the tremor across Gibbs' chest was Tony's only warning before the steady pressure against his ass abated. Quickly flattening his palms against the wall alongside Tony's, Gibbs snapped his hips back and _slammed_ - once, twice, three times - Tony saw stars and knew he was coming fast and hot, downward between his thighs, even as he felt Gibbs pulsing hard and melting deep inside him.

They regained their breaths and separated enough for Tony to turn around, then stood together in a shaky embrace for several moments, idly kissing each other's lips and eyelids. They did what they could about the elevator, and their clothing, and when the whole incendiary and ridiculous situation more or less dawned on them they knew they couldn't return to the bullpen reeking of sweat and sex. Tony sniffed meaningfully.

"Showers." Gibbs croaked.

"Gym?"

"Think the Haz-Mat shower would be a little conspicuous, Tony."

As he came fully back to reality Tony realized something with a mild start. Before today his more spectacular lapses in attention _had_ resulted in trips to the gym, never the elevator, not even for a lecture. He schooled the grin from his lips before it could gain further traction and regarded Gibbs with wide, sincere eyes.

"How many, Boss?"

Gibbs glared at him and Tony gleefully stepped over the line.

"How many times a day do you think about fu..."

Gibbs' right hand connected with the back of Tony's head, and it wasn't unexpected. Nope, not at all.

END. Hope you liked it!


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